Baka onii-san, you clearly cannot match my Japanese spirit.

[Anonymous No.]

Gomenasai /jp/, my name is Ken-Sama.

I'm a 27 year old American Otaku. I draw Anime and Manga on my tablet, and spend my days perfecting my art and playing superior Japanese games. (Disgaea, Final Fantasy, God Hand)

I train with my Katana every day, this superior weapon can cut clean through steel because it is folded over a thousand times, and is vastly superior to any other weapon on earth. I earned my sword license two years ago, and I have been getting better every day.

I speak Japanese fluently, both Kanji and the Osaka dialect, and I write fluently as well. I know everything about Japanese history and their bushido code, which I follow 100%

When I get my Japanese visa, I am moving to Tokyo to attend a prestigious High School to learn more about their magnificent culture. I hope I can become an animator for Studio Ghibli or a game designer for Square Enix!

I own several kimonos, which I wear around town. I want to get used to wearing them before I move to Japan, so I can fit in easier. I bow to my elders and seniors and speak Japanese as often as I can, but rarely does anyone manage to respond.

[Anonymous No.]

RIP ;_;

[Anonymous No.]

Ken-kun nooo!

[Anonymous No.]

>>11575101

Is this real?

To turn your back on your own doom... Ken-sama truly possessed the resolve of a Japanese man...

[Anonymous No.]

>>11575101

Is this a this a photoshoped?

[Anonymous No.]

>>11575261
Please don't use Photoshop as a verb

[Anonymous No.]

He opens his eyes.

His surroundings are a murky green, light enough to see the color, yet dark enough to have no idea as to my location. The warmth slowly creeps back into his arms, and the gentle caress of his surroundings begin to embrace him.

His pupils dilate. He is underwater. Rust clings to a nearby metal frame, and he seeks around to find its source. As he swims, his kimono flutters gracefully as if a deer were to silently frolic among the meadows in the Summer. The light becomes sharper, enough to make out the rusted metal frame of a set of swings. He gasps briefly as his memories come rushing back, like the very torrent of water that claimed him. Water floods into his mouth as he splutters, but then finds no difficulty breathing; He is quite comfortable underwater. Except for his memories.

He remembered the overcast day and the cold breeze of the morning wind beckoning him into wakefulness, the warm smiles of the elderly couple downstairs, warmly eating their breakfast. Looking back, he could feel the tension in the air. It was cloying, nature's destructive force, beautiful and deadly like that of a venomous spider spinning its silken web, only to devour the flesh of those that would seek its beauty.

He notices another structure some distance away, the rotting timber of a park bench where he once rested on a morning walk. His heart feels light, before it is torn to pieces.

Caught under the bench is a body. The corpse of a child, dressed in white with pastel yellows and pinks. She is missing one shoe, and her hair is buoyed in an unnatural manner by the murky green water. He chokes back a strangled sob as the green of the water, in his eyes, is tinged red by the fury that he now holds in his heart. He recalls the screams of the children as they fled, the girl he now sees not knowing what to do and staring up with an innocent fear at the looming wave, one sock pushed down and her pastel pink skirt muddied from playing on that cold morning.

[Anonymous No.]

>>11575355
He gives a whimper as warm tears course freely down his face, the memory of her yellow jumper being torn from her frail body as the waters enveloped her. Where the rush of the primordial water did not cut the peaceful air of the morning, the screams did. Her chestnut hair flailed wildly around as she was taken by nature, torn from the peaceful, happy life she once knew.

He splutters as his vision returns to normal, though he still holds the fury, burning in his heart. His will that of iron, he forces himself to the surface, overcoming the pain of movement, hellbent on the drive to hold his promise he made to the children when he set off to defend the peaceful shores of Japan against the tsunami.

A stone memorial stands at the edge of the water he pulls himself from. His body screams at him to stop, but he refuses to listen. He is fueled by a different material now. He observes the memorial, its writings etched in the ancient Japanese language, apart from one word at the bottom of a long list. He shuts his eyes before he can read it, knowing the pain of such a title is too much to bear.

Petals and offerings litter the ground, sometimes being carried off on the breeze to places unknown. A newspaper flies past, striking the monument and coming to rest as the wind dies down. He kneels to observe the front-page picture, a man with a silly hat a glass of beer embracing another man, a gaijin, with a large nose. The photograph is captioned 'ZUN と moot'.

His scream tears itself from his throat, the agony too much to bear. He takes one final glance at the September 28th newspaper before grasping his katana and bokken and charging over the waters, his movement too fast to disturb the silently violent force of nature.

"I knew it was you moot!" he shouts as the water kicks up around his sandled feet. "I'm coming for you and I will have my vengeance!"

[Anonymous No.]

>>11575356
On that day, Ken truly past into the Dark Forest, only to emerge as a man of granite, an avenging angel wrapped in a simple kimono, carrying simple weapons made with the love of a blacksmith dedicated to his craft, their steel folded over one thousand times.

He would truly protect Minna-San, even if he had to die to be re-united with her, he would keep his promised and avenge her death at the hands of Moot.

[Anonymous No.]

>>11575266
how do i use photoshop

[Anonymous No.]

>>11575355
>>11575356
>>11575358

This is great

[Suika-Tan !Npq.Isx2OE No.]

Ken-sama will be going on his usual morning walk to sightseeing the glorious nihonjin country. "Itadakimasu obasan and ojisan", they gave him a mixed smile and a slightly confused expression.

Ken-sama reached the park near the beach, he like to watch kids playing as it is a something that can warm his pure heart. Suddenly, a sudden tremor. No, it's more terrifying than that, it's an earthquake, a huge one. The ground was shaking and beginning to crack, Ken-sama look at the children, they were running away terrified, "minna san! do not run around! Stay in place!"

The kids couldn't understand what he was saying, he gestured what he was trying to say, he ordered the kids to stay in the middle of the park as it is too dangerous. But that was Ken-sama's mistake, he look at the beach from afar. It was huge, a tsunami is coming. Ken-sama widened his eyes and look at the children and yelled every Japanese word he knew "Arigatou gozaimasu! Gomenasai! Run away minna-san!"


The children ran away, the wave is coming, it was at least 100ft tall. Ken-sama was ashamed with himself, he should have anticipated this, if he did the children would be far away by now. "sumimasen mina-san, it was my mistake", he took his hidden katana and dual wield with the bokken and katana. As he ran towards the tsunami trying to stop it, he uttered his last words. "Arigatou obasan, ojisan. For taking care of me" The wave rise even higher. A shout is heard; "Nippon banzai!".

[Suika-Tan !Npq.Isx2OE No.]